3…2…1…Blastoff!

So, in honor of the space shuttle’s last launch today, I thought I’d post up a few of my thoughts on the Space Shuttle (mostly for posterity’s sake).  I don’t think many non-family members read this blog, so some may already know these stories.

For those who don’t know, we moved to a little town called Deer Park in Florida right around the time I turned 4.  While I have many fond memories of Deer Park (we dug a pool…we flew kites…we found turtle eggs in the backyard…we had two really cool dogs named Spike…etc.), many very strong memories of mine revolve around NASA.  Kennedy Space Center was around an hour away from our house, and I remember visiting it several times when I was very young.  I loved the big rockets (especially the awesome Saturn V), the Vehicle Assembly Building, Mission Control—it was all very fascinating and wonderful to me.  I remember that we went to see a shuttle launch with Grandpa and Grandma T one time, across the bay from the launcher, but living that close, you could always easily see the launches in the sky.  As often as we knew about them, we went outside and watched the fiery launches until we couldn’t see the trail anymore.  I dreamed of going into space as an astronaut.

One particular memory that is somewhat tender for me is of the Challenger launch.  I was in First Grade at the time, and we were walking to art class.  As we walked, we saw the massive plume of the shuttle launch rise above the horizon.  We stopped to watch the rocket climb upward—and then we noticed that the trail split.  We didn’t understand why.  Our teacher rushed us back into our classroom, where we turned the TV on and learned of the shuttle’s demise.  I don’t remember the names of the crew, with the exception of Christa McAuliffe, who was to be the first teacher in space. I remember the sadness in Mrs. Ollis’ classroom at Hickory Tree Elementary to think that we had lost a teacher who was going to teach us all sorts of exciting things from space.

I don’t remember a lot of the emotional details from the next few weeks, but according to my Mom, I was quite obsessed.  I often asked if they had found the bodies of the astronauts, as there was a time period that NASA was either not very forthcoming in details, or I was simply too young to understand them.  My parents later bought a copy of The Illustrated History of NASA:  Anniversary Edition, which contained pictures of the Shuttle’s passenger compartment being hoisted from the Atlantic Ocean.  For years I couldn’t look at those pictures for long—I would skip past them very quickly.  Several years after the incident, I had several opportunities to visit the Challenger Memorial at Arlington National Cemetery, and I remember those chances being very special to me.  I seem to remember the Memorial being close to the Endless Flame that burns in the Kennedy memorial, and while I certainly felt the gravity of that monument, the Challenger Memorial was much more personal to me.

After a couple of years, we moved from Deer Park over to a larger town called Ruskin (I think Deer Park had a stop light or two—Ruskin had a lot of them).  Even from across the state, we could still see the shuttle launches, though the trails were noticeably smaller at such a distance.  I also remember the landings—when the shuttle would land in FL, it would break the sound barrier on its reentry.  The sonic boom would often hit our house and cause all of the paintings on the walls to shake.

I continued to maintain my love of space throughout my youth.  I remember going to the Smithsonian as a family and seeing an Apollo capsule and a moon rock, among other treasures.  I was a member of a Space club, and remember returning to Kennedy Space Center several times.  One of my favorite features was the IMAX movie “The Dream is Alive.”  I remember Walter Cronkite’s wonderful voice narrating the movie, and being several years past my first visit when I could finally open my eyes for the full segment where they show the Launchpad evacuation system at work (my fear of heights would get the best of me most of the time).

Honestly, going to college, I kind of lost sight of the space program.  Working through school, it’s hard to see where you will land, and it’s easy to get caught up in the immediacies of life, rather than the wonderful fantasies of space.  After college, I do remember the Columbia disaster, as I was at the local gym when the story came on the TV.  Another sobering moment in the quest for space.

Nowadays, I work in the aerospace industry, and sometimes I have to pinch myself—I work on space stuff!  I’ve had the opportunity to see in person satellites that are currently orbiting around Mars.  I’m very thankful for the romantic view of space that being a child late in the Space Age provided to me.  I feel a little bad that kids today, growing up in the Information Age, will not be as focused on space as I was.  Maybe that was actually a product of where I lived, or what my parents liked, and not just of the Space Age, but I’m glad for it.  Space has always been a place to reach for—a place to dream of, and to learn about.  I hope to continue to work in the industry and stand on the shores of our vast cosmic ocean, dreaming of one day understanding even more about the universe I live in.